Sanguine Rhapsody
by Gentleman Crow
Summary: About three things Sollux was absolutely positive: First, Eridan was a Vampire. Second, he was an insufferable, pompous prick and part of him, though he did not know how dominant that part may be, longed to punch him square in his snooty face. And third, his apartment was pretty choice, and living with an asshole Vampire had to still be better than living in a box in an alley.


**Author's Note:** Well you can totally kick me out of the fandom now for this! And NO despite my dumb description Twilight Parody this is NOT A TWILIGHT PARODY XT Just me really wanting an EriSol vampire AU because I'm a big huge dumb and I love Vampires and I hadn't seen anyone do it yet! Also me trying to write COMEDY because damn if EriSol doesn't need more comedic fics! Except I'm about as funny as my shoe so I apologize in advance for well… For my everything. Just go on ahead and read it and let me know how you feel at the end!

_**Chapter One:**_

_**In which a young vagrant finds himself in a living situation no sitcom ever prepared him for.**_

As he sat at the Starbucks table underneath an umbrella sipping a hot double shot venti caramel machiatto on a crisp autumn afternoon, one Sollux Captor wondered whether or not spending his last scrap of change on a sugary, caffeinated death shot had been worth it. Indeed it had, he reasoned, for he would need the extra jolt if he was going to be awake all night on the streets fending off muggers, murderers, rapists, and the like. That tended to happen when one was rendered suddenly and ruthlessly homeless. But if there was one positive to take away from the ruins that had become of his life in the span of a single morning, at least being evicted from his rathole of an apartment and tossed out like last week's forgotten garbage and sleeping on a park bench meant he could easily evade the collection agencies that had been hounding him for the expensive custom-built laptop with which he was currently browsing alternate lodging opportunities. Glass half full, as he recalled someone saying once. Whoever it was ought to be drawn and quartered and their head placed on a pike as a warning to all other optimists for perpetuating such asinine sentiment.

Sollux sneered and took another swig of his syrupy drink to wash the tang of resentment out of his mouth. It was no fault of his that he had been fired from every programming company that had ever offered him employment. Something about not playing nice with others or some other pedantic gradeschool gripe levied against him by coworkers clearly jealous of his genius. And it was certainly not his fault that all his usual banking systems had undergone a recent security upgrade that he was having trouble cracking. A week, tops, and he knew he would be back to skimming just a little off the top of unsuspecting accounts and never raising a red flag. Of course this was not something he could freely admit to a furious landlord with a hand rammed firmly down his proverbial empty pockets, and so he had packed his meager belongings and his beloved laptop and walked out, middle fingers flying proud above his head.

The last laugh would be his, however. Everyone would eat their words and grovel for forgiveness once he was finished with his lifelong project and reigned king of the gaming world. The immaculate creation of an RPG that he had been plotting, scheming, and incubating since his high school days would be the pinnacle of PC gaming. For years it would be the talk of the industry. Droves of fans would clamber in line for the release at midnight, people would be trampled, pandemonium would ensue; it would be legendary. All games that came before would be reviled as shoddy and mediocre, and all games that would come after would pale in comparison until Armageddon. The name Sollux Captor would go down in history as the technological and storytelling genius of all history and never forgotten. As soon as he could find a new place to work, that is. Starbucks only allowed leeching of their power outlets and wifi for so long.

Every apartment and ad listing flashed before Sollux's eyes, one dark ruddy brown, the other a pale sky blue behind his oval-rimmed glasses, but none stood out. Every single one demanded unreasonable things like security deposits and proof of employment, and some even first and last month's rent up front. Many of them he had already been evicted from and still technically owed money to and he skipped over them with a groan. It was going to be a long evening.

Rush hour came and went. After work patrons shuffled into the Starbucks for their fix before trudging home. Sollux grew bored and distracted and began perusing web comics and his favorite tech blogs and the website with the idiotic cat photos he swore he would never go back to while the apartment listings fell further and further into his browser tabs. Eventually he had the sense to realize that leasing offices were not twenty-four hour liquor stores and normal people with normal jobs and normal hours went home at the end of the day, ate dinner, and went to bed at a reasonable time. Sighing, Sollux reached for his coffee only to discover he had emptied it ages ago and had taken approximately three futile attempts at a drink prior before that fact finally sunk in. The cup met a soft death on the pavement before it rolled out into the street and was summarily obliterated by a passing SUV. Sollux tugged his tattered leather jacket closer around his spindly frame against the incoming cool of night and finally got back to work.

Abandoning the allure of shiny, newly renovated apartment buildings with their tantalizing photographs of azure pools, lush flower gardens, and supermodel tenants grinning vacantly into the camera as they pretended to work out, the irate hacker turned at last to the internet underground where he had vowed never to go; the shadowed realm of job boards, personal ads, and rooms to let masking the deepest and darkest perversions of humankind. Sollux entered, with skin crawling and self loathing creeping up his spine, the last bastion of the desperate dregs of cyberspace: Craig's List.

At least a random stranger with a vacant room would be more willing to talk to him at a late hour, and much easier to con into letting him stay the night without paying anything up front. With any luck he might just find an old widow with a spare bedroom and a lonely house who hadn't seen her grandchildren in years who would feed him and bring him hot cocoa and freshly baked cookies and dote on him with no frivolous questions. That, or he could at least find a tweaked out junkie desperate enough to let him stay in hopes of money for a fix and high enough to forget he was ever there before he crept out in the morning. The search went on, but a park bench underneath a pile of newspaper and pigeon feathers was sounding more and more appealing by the moment.

In between the raunchy ads for booty calls with bizarre kinks even Sollux had never heard of in all his years surfing the web and people trying desperately to sell utterly unsellable items, he scanned through the postings with growing disdain and hopelessness. This one wanted too much per month. That one had a horde of cats and with his asthma he'd be dead before morning. Another he knew was in an area of town full of prostitution dens and he wasn't quite desperate enough to concede to being kidnapped into the sex trade just yet. Several more were out of his league entirely.

Things were looking quite bleak for the intrepid young hacker and entrepreneur.

As he approached the end of the posts for the city he began to weigh his options for doom. He could start off with the crazy cat lady. Holding his breath and ramming wads of tissue up his nose for a night certainly wouldn't kill him. Or he could take a risk with the drug dens and sleep with his beloved computer under his pillow and a switchblade in his hand. Perhaps spending a night with hookers would be the best option after all. Sollux was just beginning to wonder if he would look good in a corset and fishnets when he reached an odd post buried near the bottom of the page. The title read, 'Room to let – Rent free! See posting for details'. Sollux stopped scrolling. Offering a room completely free seemed ludicrous. It had to be some kind of typical Craig's List shenanigans, but curiosity had always gotten the better of him, particularly in the underbelly of the web. Certain he would open it to see a graphic picture of male genitalia in full lewd display underneath the hairy gut of a desperate divorcee or a woman performing fellatio on some barnyard animal, he clicked it anyway. Much to his surprise, an actual article loaded written in prim and proper shorthand.

"_Renowned businessman and heir to fortune seeks roommate and housekeeper to share luxury downtown loft with scenic views. Responsibilities include cleaning, maintenance, and errands in lieu of rent. Must be cooperative, well mannered, gracious, and be amenable to house rules. Male, college educated, cultured, and with a taste for literature and music preferred. Must love fish._

_Please make all inquiries in person in the evening hours after 7 pm._

_Regards,_

_E. Ampora Esq._"

After he finished, Sollux stared at the screen for several moments before bursting out in hysterics. The thing read more like the clueless personals he had just been amusing himself with rather than an ad for a room. It had to be too good to be true. Whoever posted it claimed to live in the lap of luxury. Dusting a few expensive electronics and taking out the trash would be the extent of his duties. The rest of his time would be free to work on his game and get back into the hacking, swindling, and grifting scene. Yet the fact remained that the posting was well over a month old. It had to be some kind of scam. Either that or it really was a personal in disguise and every unfortunate soul who had answered it had met a grisly fate of cheap champagne, men's room musk, and Barry White on vinyl.

Sollux couldn't decide on which possibility seemed more likely. He had to investigate. It was too bizarre not to, and he had nowhere else to go anyway. If it was true he had to see for himself just what kind of ignoramus was willing to let just anyone waltz up to his door, invade his home, and clean his stuff without any kind of background check or a referral. For all he knew it could be a serial killer's trap, or a prank that would land his duped mug on youtube for millions of viewers to ridicule, but his curiosity was intense and sadly, it was still his best lead even after hours of searching for not sleeping in a dark alley with his laptop as a pillow. His phone's GPS found the address on the listing quickly and directed him in robotic monotone where to go. A good journey downtown awaited him, so Sollux packed up his computer and tucked it into his ratty duffel bag with the rest of his meager belongings and headed for the nearest metro station. He would decide how to handle the situation once he arrived. Besides, he hadn't even had one of his freaky dreams or heard any of the whispers warning him to stay away, and they were always right about everything. When he could figure them out, anyway.

The apartment's address was indeed, as the listing claimed, in a posh and pricey area of downtown well known for housing the elite and upper crust of society. A straight subway ride and a quick jaunt on a bus took Sollux close enough and he walked the rest of the way as the sun sunk into its fiery grave below the horizon and the lights of downtown. He was glad not to have to look over his shoulder as he turned every corner and look down every alley as he made his way to the towering, shining high rise overlooking the sprawling lush park at the heart of the city. The windows shone in the light of the budding moon just peaking through the metropolitan haze. Complete with red awnings trimmed in gold, flowers, flags, and a burly, affronted doorman in a caricature of military garb, he whistled through his teeth at the sight. Sollux suddenly felt as if a force field surrounding the place was scanning his credit card even through his wallet to charge him for even being in the presence of the magnificent structure and its purportedly important residents.

Sollux marched with purpose up to the revolving door of the front entrance, only to be stopped by the very stern and humorless brick wall of a doorman. He tried to joke his way in, but his cracks about Dickensian street paupers and wanting to learn to be a proper lady and looking for Mister Higgins in poor and lispy imitation of cockney won him zero points. No one ever appreciated his sense of humor. In the end he was forced to dryly admit he was there to inquire about the room in a slow tone using very small words. All vestiges of color drained from the man's face at the mere mention of whomever it was that dwelled in the loft high above. He instructed Sollux to stay on the sidewalk and not to move, talk to anyone, or even blink or breathe while he went inside to check him in and vanished back inside to the main office. Sollux watched, grinning crookedly and feeling like he'd stepped right into the cheesiest of campy horror movies.

A few moments later the doorman returned, still ashen faced, and clandestinely handed him a folded slip of paper with "Apartment 206" written on it and a code underneath without another word. He silently returned to his post and Sollux took the invitation to waltz in and carry on his way. The lobby of the apartment building was just as lavish as the outside suggested. A crystal chandelier hung overhead, bathing the room in warm chromatic light, and a smug sculpture of a nude Greek god invited passengers into gilded elevator doors on either side of him. Sollux gawked openly at his stone endowment, which just so happened to be right at eye level, as he pressed the button to call the elevator and stepped inside the mirrored compartment. The control panel boasted an impressive array of prim brushed nickel buttons with a digital keypad at the top. Assuming, he hoped correctly, that he was meant to enter the code at the bottom of his note in order to gain access to the top suites, Sollux tapped in the numbers and hit the enter key.

The elevator processed his request only a moment before the keypad flashed "Access Granted" and the car lurched smoothly into motion. The conveyance bore Sollux swiftly up every story of the high-rise and made nary a sound. He barely even felt the working parts of the machinery. The only signal he was actually moving was the whirr of the engines and an ominous flickering of the overhead light as it stopped at his destination. A bell chimed. The doors hissed open and ushered their passenger into another small, circular lobby with a skylight above and three hallways branching out from it.

The stars glittered slightly clearer hundreds of feet above the city through the crystalline glass. The moon cast a crisp halo of silvery light around the main foyer. Crisp baroque patterned paper with gold leaf patterns covered the walls and lovingly preserved nautical paintings hung wherever there was room for schooners and galleons and giant squids lurking in the depths. The hallways leading to what Sollux imagined had to be the few suites on the secret top floor were dimly lit only with elaborate gold sconces covered in blood red glass. The entire story lay in eerie silence and ruddy light with its yawning crevices hiding God only knew what, but he had come too far to chicken out at the last second. Shouldering his heavy duffel bag securely onto his shoulders and straightening out his battered jacket, Sollux strode boldly down the center hallway.

The bronze placard told him the passage would take him to apartments numbered 203 through 206, so he knew his destination would be the last door at the end of a long, dark, freaky hallway. How typical, he mused. He trod on silent feet clad in his mismatched black and white hightops feeling compelled to glance over his shoulder to see if something was following him, but reminding himself that was childish idiocy and he would feel like a complete Melvin for days if he so much as admitted the experience was unnerving. Despite the fact that he was growing quite certain once he was inside the apartment he would black out and wake up in some twisted contraption where he would have to gouge out his own eyes or sever a leg in order to survive while a masked madman on closed circuit TV told him that since he loved games so much he thought he might to play one with him.

A dark reddish and elegantly carved mahogany door emerged from the pitch as if by magic, its bright golden number 206 smoldering invitingly. The peephole gleamed like a hungry eye turning its pale scrutiny upon him as Sollux approached and the darkness closed its incorporeal curtain behind him. He sucked a sharp breath through his teeth, steeled his nerves while pointedly not looking back, and rang the bell once. The pleasant tinkle of gentle chimes sounded, muffled with distance and masonry. Sollux had halfway expected an Adams Family moan or a scream, or a chilling death knell. A few moments of silence passed, then nothing. Sollux debated ringing the bell a second time or running away screaming. A few more moments passed and Sollux insulted himself into reaching out to ring the bell, but stopped as he heard footsteps on the other side of the door. He recoiled as if the sleek silver button had morphed into a giant spider and raised all eight hellish limbs to greet him.

A chain rattled against the wood. A dead bolt slid with a low _thock_ into the innards of the door. The knob slowly turned and the door slid soundlessly open. Warm golden light flooded into the darkened hallway, illuminating the tall and stately figure that appeared. His skin was porcelain pale with electric violet gray eyes that stood out against it like the aurora borealis on snowdrifts. His wavy dark chestnut hair was immaculately coiffed, the effect only ruined by a bright purple forelock swept back over the whole presentation. A pair of thick black spectacles sat upon his regally hooked nose and he wore a purple smoking jacket over a dark blue silk shirt. An actual smoking jacket. Sollux was fairly certain those only still existed in black and white movies and bit his tongue to keep from laughing.

"So. You must be the new applicant for the housekeeper position," the owner huffed in a surprising prim Irish accent.

It stunned Sollux. Both in the fact he was definitely not expecting the accent and the fact that he was on a private floor at a private suite that he needed a code to access. No one else was likely to be ringing his bell at nearly eight in the evening.

"Uh, yeah, who else would I be? This place is a fucking Fortress of Solitude. It's not like Jehova's Witnesses or girl scouts or whatever are gonna be waltzing up here to try and guilt trip you into buying ten boxes of thin mints so they can go to horseback riding camp," Sollux joked, his lisp suddenly sounding coarse and hideous by comparison.

He laughed, but the quip fell flat on its face and died an undignified death in silence.

"Uh, anyway, I'm Sollux. Sollux Captor," he quickly recovered, extending a hand.

The man wrinkled his nose, but extended an elegant, immaculately manicured hand bejeweled in gold and amethyst rings for him out of a sheer sense of propriety and nothing more.

"Eridan Ampora."

Sollux shook it firmly once and shivered as it seemed to leech all the warmth from his skin.

"Eridan huh?" Sollux mused, taking his hand awkwardly back and rubbing it, "Interesting name."

"That's Mr. Ampora to you!" Eridan declared, finally stepping out of his apartment and fingering the collar of Sollux's old leather coat as he circled around him like a vulture, "Ugh, why are they always so shabby an' undignified? And why are you wearing two different shoes…?"

"It's a fashion statement. And probably because only a desperate moron would actually come looking for a- Whoa hey easy, hands off the merchandise!" Sollux cried as Eridan opened his jacket to inspect the worn and faded Assassin's Creed tee he was wearing underneath.

Unfazed, he straightened his back and looked curiously into his mismatched brown and blue eyes.

"Your eyes… Are two different colors," he remarked.

"Really!? I hadn't noticed! I have a pathological fear of mirrors and all shiny or reflective surfaces so I haven't seen my face, at all, ever, not once in my entire mortal life," Sollux hissed, his voice dripping in sarcasm.

"A lisp, too… Charming. I suppose beggars can't be choosers," Eridan sighed, "Very well, you can come in, but for chrissakes take off your shoes and leave them outside. God only knows what you've been sloggin' through in the gutters to get up here. And shut the door behind you!"

With that, he turned over his shoulder with a flip of a hand and marched inside his home, leaving the door open for his guest. Sollux stood there with a twisted expression of horror, disgust, and violation all at once on his face. An inkling of just exactly why the posting was still on Craig's List even after a month began to percolate through his skull. But at least it was clear Eridan Ampora was simply an asshole, not a serial killer, and he could deal with assholes for a warm safe bed for the night. He sighed heavily and walked into the apartment, leaving his sneakers most decidedly on as he shut the door and followed Eridan inside.

The apartment itself was the picture of modern elegance and class. Sollux walked on spotless white carpets into a lavish den furnished with immaculate cherry wood and shiny chrome accents. A fireplace burned low beside the state of the art plasma flat screen mounted television that took up nearly an entire wall. A bright blue glow washed over the violet area rug underneath the sleek black leather couch from an enormous fish tank on the opposite side of the room filled to the brim with brightly colored specimens flitting about their artificial coral reef and a beautifully constructed shipwreck model. It was featured almost more prominently than the spectacular television. Now the fish thing made sense.

Sollux quirked an eyebrow at it. He turned to question Eridan, more mock and tease than ask really, but once he did the affected Irishman was nowhere to be seen. The same cold tingle crept up his spine. The door appeared to still be unlocked, just in case he needed to flee. Strength had never been his forte but he could certainly sprint and hope his asthma decided to spare him an attack and a grisly death. Sollux tightened his grip on his duffel bag, muscles tensing, but when he checked over his shoulder to make sure he was clear for his flight Eridan had suddenly reappeared with the same disapproving scowl on his handsomely arrogant face. Sollux swore and reeled backward, gripping his chest and seething.

"Jesus fucking Christ you can't DO that!" he spat.

Eridan blinked innocently.

"Do what? This is my home I can do whatever the fuck I jolly well please!" he harrumphed, "Anyway! Now if you want the job there're a few things I want to go over."

Relieved and thoroughly annoyed, Sollux ran a hand through hair and growled.

"Yeah I'll bet there are…"

"First off!" Eridan announced, raising a finger, "While you are living here there are to be no guests without my express permission!"

Sollux snorted.

"Well that won't be hard seeing as I have no friends and the sex appeal of a Klingon with acne. Next," he retorted.

Eridan seemed surprised by his response, but continued without faltering.

"Secondly, your duties will include vacuumin', dustin', doin' any and all of the dishes, cleanin' anythin' else that needs it and feedin' the fish. I have a professional cleaner who comes in to take care of cleanin' the tank so no need to worry about that one," he pontificated.

"Easy enough, but since the ride is free and all, what about you know, eating? Obviously I am between jobs at the moment so unless you want to come home one day to a skeleton draped seductively over the La-z-Boy here might want to help a bro out," Sollux noted amusedly.

"Oh right, food… You do need food, don't you? Alright, I'll provide an adequate budget for you to sustain your current physique. Shouldn't require much I imagine," Eridan scoffed snootily with a grin.

Sollux was so baffled by the comment about needing food he didn't even think to defend his wiry frame.

"Sounds… Good?"

"Excellent! Now there's one more thing before I show you around," Eridan added, his gray eyes flashing dangerously, "The one rule I gotta fuckin' insist you obey, is you have to stay up in your room after dark. No matter what you hear, no matter what you need, you will stay on the second floor and NEVER come downstairs. Do you understand?"

The command was given with such strange dark authority, such severity, Sollux said nothing in response. He merely nodded, captivated by the intensity in Eridan's eyes and the oddly compelling resonance in his voice. In an instant Eridan morphed back into his prim, stuffy self and puffed out his chest, pleased.

"Excellent! It's just that I keep irregular hours because of my work and I entertain at night. I don't need the help snufflin' and scrapin' around when I have important people here!" he explained.

"Dude, you had me at 'second floor', I don't give two shits about your rich douchebag parties," Sollux affirmed.

"Never address me as 'dude' again!" Eridan snapped, "Now if you are amenable to the conditions I have outlined thus far, I'll show you around the house."

"Lead the way Baron Von Fuckstick."

Luckily, Eridan missed the insult as he turned around and led Sollux through his home. He showed him the vast living room where they had been standing and the attached more modest dining room. The kitchen branching off from the main room proved to be pleasantly large and supplied with top of the line appliances and chef's tools, even though Sollux was completely useless in one. Confirming the existence of a sizeable refrigerator and a microwave was more than enough for him. The balcony overlooking the entirety of the glittering metropolis below and trimmed in lovingly tended flowers and plants was a detail he appreciated, but he was most anxious to see where he would be staying. After a long and drawn out explanation on how he wanted everything cleaned and how he expected it to be, Eridan finally took Sollux up the staircase closed off by another door from the main floor and to the bedroom chambers.

The second floor was not much but a small common area with several doors leading to bedrooms. Eridan allowed Sollux into only one, claiming it was the least grand room, but it was still the most spectacular bedroom Sollux had ever been in. A queen-sized four-poster with royal purple satin sheets sat at the center with the same cherry wood bureaus on either side that matched the rest of the furniture in the house. Art nouveau paintings of mermaids and fantastic sea creatures hung from the pure white walls and a gauzy violet curtain draped over the window cast an almost mystical light from the moon just outside.

"This is where you will stay, and you are not to enter any other room up here. You have a door to your own bathroom over there and you may do as you please with it. Any other questions?" Eridan asked.

There was only one.

"You got wifi, right?"

"Certainly."

"Then I say we got a deal," Sollux agreed.

"Wonderful! Let me have your phone number and I will let you know when I make a decision!" Eridan said, beaming.

Sollux's gut wrenched.

"What? Wait hang on! I thought this was a done deal!" he spluttered.

"No no! Of course not! I can't just have any dirtscrapin' pauper come up in here and agree to let him muck with my effects! I gotta weigh my decision carefully!" Eridan protested, "Now do you want to be considered for the room or don't you?"

Sollux gaped with his jaw hanging wide open, watching the beautiful room and the decadent bed flutter out of the magnificent window with the panoramic view.

"Fine…" he conceded and begrudgingly gave his phone number.

Eridan took it with all the businesslike pomp and circumstance of a job interview, showed him straight back to the door with the usual pleasantries and shut it firmly behind him. Sollux sighed, shoulders drooping under the sudden weight of all his worldly possessions and refound homelessness and trudged to the elevator. He could only hope that the homeless shelters hadn't closed their doors for the night, or that his acting skills were good enough to convince them he was on the brink of death or something.

Sollux only made it as far as the lobby of the apartment complex before his phone rang in his pocket. He stopped and fished it out, staring at the unfamiliar number in disbelief. It couldn't be. And yet, there was only one person it could be. He pressed the answer button and slowly put the phone up to his ear.

"Hello…?"

"Mr. Captor, am I correct?" none other than Eridan's voice barked sharply.

"Uh… Ye-"

"Excellent! Then I am very pleased to inform you, you have been selected to fill the position and to move into the room!" Eridan continued as if there was nothing strange at all about calling literally five minutes later.

"…But I was just fucking there," Sollux deadpanned.

"You haven't accepted alternate lodgin's have you?"

"What the fuck do you think?!"

Silence.

"NO… I haven't…" Sollux finally filled him in, slapping himself in the forehead.

"Good! Then come on over. You will stay here tonight and begin work officially in the morning. I will leave a list of instructions! See you soon!" Eridan sang and promptly hung up the phone.

Sollux stood in the lobby, his silent cell phone still against his ear, lips pressed tightly shut. He had two options. Option A, run and run as fast as he could to the bus stop before the busses stopped running and never look back. Or option B, turn around and get back in the elevator that would take him to a strange and desperate man who referred to him as 'the help' and sent him off only under the pretense of some sort of twisted imaginary job interview. At least Eridan Ampora had already told him he kept odd hours and wanted nothing to do with him. In all likelihood, he would see his face just once more and then it would just be a system of passive aggressive notes and text messages and living in complete blissful silence with the most luscious bed and the single sweetest TV he'd ever seen. Maybe if he behaved himself he could even swindle a Playstation 3 or an Xbox out of his majesty Mr. Ampora. Esquire. Or he could just hang on long enough to find a new job or work a new hack and scam. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad.

Sollux had always preferred solitude anyway.

But if he was waiting up there with some sort of saucy French maid costume he was going to punch his lights out.

With a grimace and a groan of self-loathing, Sollux stuffed his phone back in his pocket and turned back. He got into the elevator and called himself every colorful, filthy, and ridiculous name he could think of until he got back to Eridan's door and walked back into the posh little corner of hell. Eridan greeted him with pleasant condescension and insisted on going over every single rule one more time in detail before he allowed his new tenant to retire to bed. Sollux did so gratefully and made sure to lock the door behind him as he stripped down to his boxers and left a trail of shabby clothes to the bed where he collapsed, bundled up tightly in the freshly laundered blankets, and fell asleep without even thinking to brush his teeth.

The morning came and went. The hour had struck nearly noon before Sollux peeled his face off of the memory foam pillow, groped around on the nightstand for his glasses, and shoved them onto his face as he smoothed his unruly black hair. He quickly checked the time and his e-mail on his cell, then padded into his own private bathroom with his meager Ziploc filled with his razor, toothbrush, and a comb and blearily turned on the shower to start his day. A short, disinterested personal hygiene routine later he was dressed in his ripped jeans and Horde tee and trotting down the stairs to the kitchen.

The list of his duties penned in Eridan's loopy, aristocratic cursive was pinned to the fridge underneath a googly-eyed seahorse magnet with the wifi password written underneath. It was, "Barracuda". Typical, Sollux mused, while at the same time humming the Heart song and resolving to lecture his new landlord on the practice of using proper passwords, not cute phrases that anyone with a decent computer and a certain level of bored maliciousness could crack. He forgot it quickly, however, after he opened the refrigerator to rummage for something to eat and discovered everything to be eerily new. Everything was still sealed, still in its original packaging, and untouched, as it had been purchased the night before. Eridan must be one to only eat out at expensive restaurants or have it delivered every night by a personal chef, or something like that, Sollux reasoned, and gave it no more thought as he took out sandwich fixings and made himself lunch.

Afterward, he went back to his room for his laptop, logged on to the internet, and lounged on the couch with Eridan's hundreds of channels on satellite while he ate. He signed in to his World of Warcraft account, just to let his guild know he was still alive and chat a bit, and flipped around on the television while he perused his orders. Nothing too complicated, everything Eridan had explained to the point of exhaustion the night before, with an addendum reminding him to be out of sight by seven o'clock. Several exclamation points emphasized once again just how dire the order was. Sollux rolled his eyes and decided a lengthy browse of icanhascheezburger and a bag of chips was much more important than getting started on Eridan's list. That and perhaps a Pawn Stars marathon.

Sollux thoroughly enjoyed several hours of sloth and idleness before he admitted he probably should at least make it look like he'd made an effort to clean. He rummaged around in the kitchen until he found the cleaning supplies and meandered about the apartment wiping things down and dusting them. Feeding the fish turned out to actually be rather pleasurable, and he saved it for last so he could watch the cheerful creatures snap and swirl about in the clear blue water until he was banished. When the dainty pendulum clock chimed seven, Sollux packed up his laptop as agreed, turned off the TV, and headed back up to his room with only a slight tinge of irritation and a generous armful of snacks. As much as he would have liked to stay in the living room with all the luxuries he could possibly want, if Eridan was schlepping more of his ilk over to entertain he was more than content to curl up in bed and play some World of Warcraft until he passed out on top of his keyboard like he usually did.

Also it was raid night, and Sollux would be damned if he was going to let some other chump Mage in the guild complete a tier set before he did. He logged back into the game, opened a Mt. Dew, and piled up his pillows for a long night of slinging frost and fire and mocking morons on ventrilo. His guild was grateful to have him and his leadership back and as he lead them off into deepest, darkest end game, his new life suddenly seemed like he had hit the proverbial jackpot. The raid went flawlessly, he walked away with all the spoils, and had plenty of time and energy left over to do a little ganking outside Stormwind, never even noticing the time.

He had cleared out all the guards and attracted the attention of some high level Alliance players when suddenly downstairs he heard the doorbell ring and the front door open even through his headset. Curious, he pulled it around his neck in time to hear Eridan's voice ring out recognizably but indistinct in greeting and several more answer him. Apparently he wasn't kidding about entertaining. Yet at the same time Sollux couldn't help but be morbidly curious. If Eridan was as rich and as huge a player on the social scene as he insinuated he was, he could very well have infamous socialites with sex tapes and heirs to blood fortunes and perhaps even celebrities down in his den. It couldn't hurt to take a peek, or to wander out and claim complete ignorance of the no appearances after dark rule. Whoever Eridan had over for cocktails and asinine chitchat might even find him cute and delightful in a pauperish sort of way and insist he stay. They might actually find him witty and amusing and offer him a job or money or gifts. Really, the mere fact that it had been forbidden alone made him want to spy all the more.

His Warcraft compatriots were loathe to see him go, but Sollux signed off after bidding them farewell and closed his laptop, slipping it under his pillow. He slid off the bed and slunk, barefoot and silent, out of his room and across the landing down the stairs. The voices of the visitors were clearer once he reached the door and he pressed his ear against the cool mahogany to hear. Unsurprisingly, he could hear Eridan, who seemed to be talking with someone who was very loud, very articulate, and very angry. Two female voices chimed in from time to time, but they were much more calm and sedate and seemed to be off on their own for the moment. None of them seemed familiar, but Sollux felt compelled to insert himself anyway. The look on Eridan's face alone would be worth it. All he had to do was wander out, claim he left something, and get a glimpse of who was in there, invited to stay or not. The perfect crime. He grinned, opened the door, and sauntered out with the confident swagger of a serial rule breaker and schoolyard delinquent.

"Hey guys! Sorry to butt in on this little soiree but I-"

Sollux stopped mid sentence. His feet froze to the floor and his blood turned to ice in his veins as he beheld the grisly scene he never should have witnessed. Eridan's head jerked up in surprise from the couch where he had been caressing the neck of a shaggy haired man wearing a red hoodie with both his lips and the set of vicious, bloodstained fangs dripping over his lips and chin as his jaw dropped in equal horror. His victim sat up, glanced over the back of the couch and swore loudly as he shoved at the creature on top of him. Eridan fought back, but Sollux heard none of their squabble as the blood rushed nosily in his ears. A woman sitting on a bar stool at the kitchen counter in a stylish black dress turned, sipping serenely on a blood donor bag through a curly crazy straw, and regarded him with casual novelty alongside her equally nonplussed blonde companion. Finally, he thought to raise his hands in surrender and scramble messily out of the room with an undignified and high-pitched scream. He slammed the door behind him and pressed his back against it, eyes wide and wild and chest heaving for breath.

Eridan Ampora was a lot of things, professional douchebag, socialite, heir to some kind of nondescript fortune, and blithering idiot, but now Sollux knew why he was so particular on top of it all.

Eridan Ampora was a vampire.


End file.
